Taphophobia
by Simone Robinson
Summary: "-One of the things which danger does to you after a time is kill emotion. I don't think I shall ever feel anything again except fear. None of us can hate anymore, or love-" When your brother is buried alive, you do everything in your power to save him.
1. Chapter 1

**T **a p h o p h o b i a

* * *

"One of the things which danger does to you after a time is, well, to kill emotion. I don't think I shall ever feel anything again except fear. None of us can hate anymore - or love."

**~ Graham Greene**

* * *

I can smell my own breath. It's warm and spicy, tasting of coffee and something else, something sweet, like honey almost, only more artificial.

I hear the crackle of static against my ear and Bishop's voice comes out of what I can only assume is an intercom of some sort. I don't know. I can't see anything.

His voice is rusty and low in my ear, yet smooth, and it reminds me of honey as it is dripped over razor-wire.

"_You had better get moving."_

I flex my fingers, feeling the scrap of paper against my palm; it's crinkled, warm and damp from being pressed against my skin all this time. It's a map, a map of the city, or at least, that's what Bishop says it is and I can't tell if he's lying or not. I never can and I don't trust him.

"_How long before you crack?"_

My breath quickens and I can feel the walls of the casket as they start pressing closer. They're shifting around me, even though casket walls arenot supposed to_ move_. And I _know_ that they can't, but why are they _still _moving towards me, crushing my arms and legs in a vice? I can taste my breath again as my beak crashes into the top. It's painful and I can feel the bruise blooming there, adding to the list of injuries. I wonder what number it is, but then I realize I've lost count.

"_Not long I don't think."_

Calm. Focus on my breathing, focus on my breaths that I_ know _are running out. The walls keep closing in and I _have _to get them to move away, get them to just _go back_.

Somehow.

I have to get away_._ I _need _to get away. Away from the voice that is hissing and crackling in my ear. I need to get away from the box of matches that lies flush against my leg, away from the scrap of paper that may or may not hold the key to my freedom.

_"It's a game after all."_

That's all it is to him and I clutch at the phone. It has one single minute of airtime on it, Bishop said. I can call whoever I want. I can waste it on pizza delivery or I can call the president and tell him exactly what Bishop has been doing all these years. Or I can call my brothers.

Because this is all a game either way. A game.

And all around me, there is a whining sound, a high pitched, keening noise, and I scrunch up my eyes even though I cannot see anything anyway. My mouth is open, my jaw aching and throbbing as the realization comes- _the sound is coming from me_- from the very recesses of my throat where every primal fear, ever primal desire is stored. And it breaks loose as I push my bound hands against the roof. The paper sticks to his fingers and through it, I can feel the metal, cold and unforgiving. It feels just a bit like steel, but I can't tell. The whining gets louder as the roof gets lower, pushing against me until it feels like my arms are about to break. My wrist joints ache and pop but I don't care because I'm screaming now.

No, this _animal_is screaming now.

_"Fear. Fear reveals everyone's true nature."_

And I realize that until this moment, I've never truly know what fear is.

I can no longer breathe.

Buried alive...

_"Just like any other animal."_

I scream again.

***0***

_"It's a kind of game you see."_

"Bishop…" Raphael's voice is a low, deep growl, "What the _hell_ have you done?"

The room is dark, almost too dark for Raphael to see the man on the other side. Even so, he aims his best death-glare at the hazy figure. Bishop is laughing now, a sound that is _really_ beginning to grate on Raph's ears. Beside him, he feels his brothers tense. The bloodlust intent that is flowing off him, rolls off them as well, pouring out in thick, potent waves. And he has to wonder how Bishop can take that kind of fury.

_"You will get a phone call. Listen carefully to everything he says. If he is still sane- you will be lead to the next clue."_

The next clue- as if his baby brother's life is just some kiddies game of find-the-flag. He growls low, stepping forward, fully intending to rip the man's godforsaken head off.

He feels a hand on his shoulder, pulling him back, restraining him. He hears nothing, sees nothing but feels Leonardo shaking his head. The hand on his shoulder is trembling. It's biting into his shoulder just a little bit harder than is strictly necessary. So Raphael says nothing. He stays back, not moving from his tightly coiled position. He's still ready to strike at any moment but he's not attacking either and it seems to satisfy his brother.

"_You have about ten minutes left until the brain damage sets in. Fifteen, and it's game over. I'd hurry."_

And then Bishop is gone. Even though Raphael doesn't see him move, he can feel it, the coldness seeping out of the air.

Beside him, Raph hears Don, his quiet, genius brother, cry out. It's a sound like nothing he's ever heard. A cry of pure, primal anguish. Anguish that they cannot make it in time.

Anguish and fear.

Fear that Michelangelo will not call, that his sanity will be overwhelmed and that they will not even have the slightest hope, the slightest chance.

Because in this game they are outgunned and outmanned, with consequences they all would die to prevent.

And Raphael realizes that he's terrified. It's a cold, harsh terror that he has never felt before. It sweeps through him, chilling him to the bone, freezing him all the way to his heart, crusting it over in ice. But it doesn't manage freeze his hate, never his hate.

Raphael turns to his brothers. Don is looking fearful but his jaw is set. And even though he is an odd shade of white, grey almost, he looks ready for anything. And at that moment, Raphael realizes that his brother might _just_ be more afraid than he is.

He turns to look at Leonardo. Leonardo who is staring at him with ice in his eyes, the very same ice Raphael can feel in the tips of his fingers.

Leonardo's hand, that had once been on his shoulder (_when had it left?),_ was now clutching at the hilt of his katana.

"You ready?"

Jaw set, Raphael nods, "Game _on_."

***0***

**Earlier:**

_Time is free, but it's priceless. You can't own it, but you can use it. You can't keep it, but you can spend it. However, once you've lost it you can never get it back._

The snowflake was soft on his tongue, cold and wet, disappearing only seconds after contact. So fast, so wonderful yet so fleeting.

Michelangelo retracted his tongue, using the free moment to rub his gloved hands together. Adjusting his sweater's hood, he stole a glance up at the sky. Even the sky seemed to be covered in snow, filled with fluffy-looking clouds. Mikey wanted to jump into them, just roll around in the wonderful whiteness. Chuckling, he looked back down and began walking through the streets, _what would Don say to that_? He could hear his brother then, _"Mikey, you cannot land in clouds, they're just water that has evaporated. And the snow is just a form of their condensation."_ Like Mikey cared. Snow was white and wonderful but more importantly_ fun_. You could race carts in it and make snow men and snow angels. Mikey ginned; he _really_ loved winter.

_And another great thing about winter_, Mikey noted, _was Christmas_. _Christmas_- a holiday where he could spend time with the people he loved- all of his family and friends gathered under one roof, exchanging gifts and eating the wonderfully cooked food- provided by him and His father of course. Christmas was no exception to his kitchen's most golden rule- _no one allowed in the kitchen who couldn't cook_. And tea did not count as cooking. Also, as he had told Leonardo on several occasions, the food had to actually be _edible_ to count.

But all that was forgotten during Christmas, and everything was just so very _wonderful_. Mikey glanced into his bag. The _gifts_, of course, were the most important part of Christmas. _Giving_ the gifts, not getting them. Of course he loved receiving, but something about the looks on his family's faces. They were always worth more than a hundred Justice Force comics. Nothing could replace the joy of making his family happy.

He had Raphael's gift, he had Don's and he had His mother's. Casey, His father and Angel he'd all bought for earlier in the season. One person, however, was proving to be a problem. Michelangelo had no clue what to get for Leonardo.

He face palmed, as he glanced through another store window. No- Leo did not care about the latest game. Nor did he care about the latest fashions or the latest clothes or the _latest_ anything. There was a special art to buying for Leonardo.

Mikey paused as he passed _Rossels' Café_- a quaint little shop filled with the smell of freshly brewed coffee and delectable looking scones. He hesitated, but then decided that some coffee would help him clear his thoughts and that a slice of that _divine_ looking chocolate cake couldn't hurt either.

He placed his order from a secluded table in the far corner, from a spot where he could watch everything without being noticed. He looked down at his gloves. It was hard to spot that he was a mutant, but then again, he couldn't afford to slip up now. Not before Christmas.

As he received his coffee, he thanked the waiter with a smile, even though he knew she couldn't see past the shadows of his hood. The coffee was warm against his frozen hands and as he stared into the black brew, he mulled over Leonardo. _What would his brother want?_ Michelangelo was not in the habit of buying stupid, useless gifts. Actually, he thought he was quite good at giving the most wanted presents. But with his elder brother…

He took a bite of cake. Leo was a bit like a cake, Mikey mused, all soft inside with a hard exterior- the base- and he was a really nice person with great morals and… yes, like a cake. Mikey nodded absently. But then how was a cake protective? And would cake stay up with you in the middle of the night coming into your room and comforting you when you had a bad dream that woke you up screaming? Would it be an over protective, neurotic but lovable big brother? Mikey doubted it, and had to wonder what Leonardo would say to being compared to a cake. Then again, Michelangelo loved cake and that had to count for something.

As he downed the last dregs of his coffee, it hit him. Grinning, Mikey paid the bill, leaving a slightly larger tip that was necessary, and scampered out of the restaurant.

_That was it!_

He made to cross the road, his footsteps heavy and quick, excitement fluttering at the base of his chest.

He could see the shop he was looking for just up ahead. He moved quickly along the edge of the alleyway. Unsuspecting and completely off guard, Michelangelo never heard the footsteps as the approached, never heard the sound of wind as something was raised into the air. Something heavy and hard, it seemed, because when his instincts finally kicked in and he whipped around, he was seconds to late to avoid the knock-out blow.

***0***

Raphael flipped the TV remote in his hand, turning it over, tossing it into the air and catching it in his other hand.

"Raphael. Stop that."

_Clank._

Raphael looked at the shattered remote lying at his feet, and then at Leonardo, "You're telling Donnie." He leaned back in the chair.

"And why, exactly, must _I_ tell him? You broke it."

"Yeah but you interrupted me."

"You were playing with it and annoying everyone around you."

"Which was only you right?"

"So?"

"So? What the hell's your problem today?" Raphael leaned up from his reclined position in the chair, "Aint you usually one for avoiding arguments?"

Leonardo slumped back in his seat, "Sorry." He mumbled, "I _know_, it's Christmas time even _you're_ not fighting with Mikey anymore, and here I am trying to stir things up for nothing."

Raphael shook his head, "If you'd said another word I Dunno how long my self-control woulda lasted."

Leonardo gave a wry smile, "Yeah."

"So what's got ya so wound up?"

"Mikes not back yet."

"Ha." Raphael let out a bark, "Shoulda known it was something like that."

"Raphael!"

Raphael smirked, "What? Not much else that gets yer panties in a twist so bad except our safety and shit." He tucked a hand behind his head, "How longs he been out?"

"Six hours and forty six minutes." Leonardo paused, "Approximately. But it's past ten; most of the department stores would be closed by now."

"And the arcade and the pizza hut, Leo?"

Leonardo frowned.

"Come on, I bet it's nothing."

"Yeah, sure... You're probably right. I over react."

"Nah that's just with me. But feel free to back off."

Leo gave him a withering glare.

"Just sayin." Raphael grinned, one hand held up in surrender, "Just sayin."

A soft tune interrupted Leonardo's comeback, and he turned to look for the source of the noise which took the form of Bon Jovi's _Have a Nice Day_.

"Aw crap…" Muttered Raphael, patting down his belt, "'S mine…"

He looked up, eyes searching, "Ey Leo, mind passing it over."

Leonardo turned to the phone, lying a foot away from him and leaned over, catching the phone beneath his finger tips, before tossing it to his brother.

Raphael caught it easily, flipping it open, "Talk to me."

Leonardo watched Raphael's expression change, becoming clouded and dark, "What?" He growled into the phone.

"You _god-damn_...bastard….how did ya _even_…?"

Raphael scowled, "_Fine_."

Leo raised an eye ridge.

"Bishop." Raph ground out, covering the speaker with his hand.

"What?" Leo was off his seat in seconds.

"I know." Raphael seethed, "He wants to talk to all of us. Shell knows how he even got this number…" He glanced at Don's lab, "Go call Don would ya?"

Leonardo nodded wordlessly, and seconds later, he appeared with Don at his side, a worried frown on the younger turtles face.

"Okay Bishop, we're here." Raph put the cell on speaker phone, "What is it that you want."

"_I want you to listen and listen closely because I'm only going to say this once."_ Bishops voice came out distorted with static but they could still hear him just fine, _"There's an abandoned art exhibition room on the corner of fifth and sixth. Meet me there in exactly ten minutes if you ever want to see Michelangelo again. I'd hurry."_

And then the line was dead.

***0***

**The present:**

Raphael gripped the phone tightly, barely noticing his knuckles as they turned white, "Mikey…" He swallowed hard, "Bro, I need you to just breathe. Okay bro? Breath for me."

Crap, he wasn't cut out for this. He wasn't, _he wasn't_. Why couldn't it have been Leo that Mikey chose to call? Or Don? Both of his brothers stood beside him now, crowding anxiously around him. He couldn't_ breathe_ damn it.

Mikey had called him, and for whatever reason, his stressed out mind had chosen _Raphael_ as the right person to call. And now, Raphael had to honor that choice by helping his brother.

He could hear Mikey's rasping breaths on the other side of the phone.

"Okay. You okay now?"

"…Raphael, I'm scared."

How long since Mikey had said that? How long since he'd sounded vulnerable like that?

Raphael swallowed again, "Mikey, it will be fine. Do you know anything about where you are?"

"The map… the map says, it says, "Eight kings threaten to save ninety five maidens for one sick knave."" Mikey was breathing harder now, "And, there's a bit of map, I think… it says fiftieth street…."

"Okay Mikey…" He glanced over at Don where his brother had copied all the information down, "Okay bro, you did good. Just stay calm. If you can, regulate your breath. Remember, like we did with the Triceratons?" Raphael had a feeling his brother was far too worked up for that, but he had to try.

"Mike, just stay calm." He glanced at Leonardo and Don, "We wont let anything happen to ya bro."

"Raphael, Bishop said tha-"

And then there was static. Horrible, terrifying, _dead_static.

"Mikey? _Mikey!_ Damn it!" Raphael slammed his phone shut, "It went dead."

"Eight kings threaten to save ninety five maidens for one sick knave." Leo was frowning, "What did that even mean?"

"A riddle… trust Bishop…. _Shitty, good for nothing_…." He trailed off into a stream of curses, "Eight kings threaten to save ninety five maidens for one sick knave….what the _hell_ is it supposed to mean?"

Don frowned, "I think…It's… it's two packs of cards."

"What?"

"It makes sense…. Eight kings… four in each deck….and it goes on…"

Slowly, Leonardo nodded his head.

Raphael on the other hand, was not convinced, "That makes no sense at all! What does that have to do with Mikey?"

Don shook his head, "And Fiftieth Street… near to that is the Bus terminal, Broadway, the cathedral…"

"Broadway!" Leo exclaimed, "There was a play…. Uh, Alice in wonderland I think..." Raphael snorted, "Anyway... Mikey wanted to go." He bit his lip, "Aren't there cards in there or something, like, a messed up queen and…" He trailed off, looking at Don.

Don was nodding thoughtfully, "Yeah… Yeah that might be it."

He looked at Raphael, "This is pretty convenient...what do you think?"

"I think we better get going! We aint got time to figure out if we're right or not! We got ten minutes, less now with all our yammering!"

"We have fifteen…" Don started

"So you want our bro to be brain damaged for life?" Raphael was seething.

"_No_!" Leo held up a hand, "Don _didn't_ mean that- let's just get going!"

Raphael nodded, tucking his phone into his belt, he took off, Don and Leonardo not far behind him.

The clock was ticking.

_Eight kings threaten to save ninety five maidens for one sick knave._

They had better be right.

* * *

**Alright. So I accidentally deleted the original. Along with all your awesome reviews. My bad. I am sort of devastated, but live and learn.**

**What did you think?**


	2. Chapter 2

**T**a p h o p h o b i a

* * *

"Light thinks it travels faster than anything but it is wrong. No matter how fast light travels, it finds the darkness has always got there first, and is waiting for it."

* * *

The pavement seemed black in the darkness. The wind, soft, caressing and almost taunting in its touch, whipped back Luke's bandanna tails so that they streamed out behind him.

His feet slapped on the pavement, knocking papers off their course. Beside him, he could hear Raph and Leo's ragged breaths. Never had they run this fast, never had they pushed themselves to this extent. The two blocks they had to run, two blocks, two minutes. They had to beat the time. They had to make it before that. They had to be _right_.

Don rubbed the sweat off his beak, gasping as they rounded the corner. The weight of responsibility, of what they had to do, weighed heavily on Don's shoulders. It felt like the entire world was on his back, as much as he detested the metaphor. He couldn't fix this, he couldn't take the hope.

And he clung fiercely to that hope. But it was a hope that, in the end…

Don was a rational man, and with each juddering step, that hope was being tugged out of his gasp.

"We're here." He turned his head to Leo.

His brother had one hand on the side of his stomach and was slowing down. Don looked up and saw the Broadway sign above his head. He reached up blindly, as if to touch it, and withdrew his hand. He spared a glance at the yellow tape and big sign reading _'closed for renovation'_. Bishop had chosen his time well.

"Now what?" He heard Raph's voice, rough and growling, dripping with the _need_ to _hurt_ someone. It had been a while since he'd heard his brother like that.

"Now we look for the next clue."

Don could see from the look on his Leo's face that he had no idea where to start. He had no idea what to _do_. He cast a desperate look at Don.

Don swallowed hard. So now it was his job. He knew that his elder brother was clinging to him, like a lifeline. And he wasn't used to seeing Leo this vulnerable. And he had to wonder, would they all make it out of this with the shreds of their sanity intact? He could feel his own slipping down into the recessed of his mind.

He swallowed hard, pulling out his phone and looking down and the time in the corner, "Seven minutes left."

Raph's eyes went wide and he made to step forward.

"On the ten minute count, Raph."

His brother visibly relaxed, nodding, "So now _what_?" He glanced around at the deserted area, "_Bishop_!" He shouted hard, his voice echoing in the streets, "Bishop! What the _hell_ are we suppose to do next?"

Silence.

"Answer me you bastard!" He roared, fists clenching at his sides.

Don watched as Leo grabbed Raph on his shoulder, pulling him around hard.

"Leo, what the hell?"

"Shut _up_!" Leo pulled his brother into a fierce hug, "don't be an_ idiot,_ Raph." He hissed into his ear, "We'll find out what to do next. Do you _want_ the whole of down town on our backs?"

Raph jerked away, wrenching himself out of Leo's grip. He was frowning, but looked far less likely to explode than before. His eyes met Don's and he nodded.

"Okay, we have no idea what to do next…" Don swallowed, "So we look around for something, or wait for Bishop to call us."

Raph had walked a few steps off and had one arm propped up against the wall. He buried his face in the crook of his elbow.

Don looked at him, and back at Leo. His elder brother was chewing on his lip; something that Don hadn't seen his brother do since they were youngsters.

As the silence began to get too much, Don opened his mouth to say something, _anything_ to relieve the terrible, pressing _lack_ _of sound_, a song began to play. Soft at first but then louder with each second.

Leo's head whipped in Raph's direction, "Raph!"

Raph did not need to be told twice, fumbling in his belt for the phone; he got it between his fingers and flipped it open, "Yes." He growled

A moment's pause, "We're here."

Don looked at Leo.

Raph's head snapped upwards, staring at the sign, "I see it."

A growl.

Raph shook his head, "Anything _else_…?" His voice was tense with sarcasm.

"_Fine_."

The phone was slammed shut.

"And?" Leo was at Raph's side within seconds, Don not far behind.

Raph was still looking up, after a moment of silence; he leaped up, snatching something off the board's ledge.

"What did he say?" Don found himself insisting, "Raph!"

"This!" Raph thrust an ornate box in Don's face.

Don grabbed it from him, wrenching it open. Both Raph and Leo were crowding over his shoulders, looking down into the box. Inside it were two wooden tablets. On it, the following was carved; _if you attend the first you should attend the second, you will be at the third, and you won't be at the fourth. If you Don't attend the first, you should attend the second, you won't be at the third, and you will be at the fourth._

No one spoke for a moment.

"What does this mean?" Raph turned, hands on his head in frustration.

Leo looked puzzled, "There has to be more to this."

"Okay. It was carved into two tablets. What else was carved onto two tablets?"

"The ten commandments?" Leo ventured

"You're right…" Don frowned, "So what does this have to do with Christianity?"

"Uh… first… first what?"

"Maybe it's the suppers?" "Suppers?"

"The first one… maybe it's that… uh… I think it was called the _Supper of Salvation_."

"So if you attend that one, then you have to attend _what_? I Don't know much about Christianity!" Leo was starting to sound frazzled.

"I read up on it a while ago…" Don felt sweat trickling down the back of his next, breaking out across his temples, "Uh. …the…_Lord's Supper_. That's the second one."

Raph walked back into their conversation, shaking his head, "So it's Christianity. That's a church. There's a Cathedral three blocks down. Let's go."

"We haven't figured the whole riddle out yet!"

"We Don't got time!" Raph ground out, "Ya wanna waste precious time figuring out all Bishop's games when we already got the answer?"

Leo frowned, and Don could see that he was willing to go along with anything at that point. He was getting desperate, "I think Raph's right. Let's just go there. I'm sure it's right."

"I Don't like this. I think that riddles important some how. The ending."

Leo was shaking his head, "Let's just go. We can figure it out of the way there right?"

Don frowned again, "…Alright." He conceded softly, "Let's go."

_If you Don't attend the first, you should attend the second, you won't be at the third, and you will be at the fourth._

Somehow, Don knew the last part was very, very important. If only he knew what it _was._

He hesitated for a moment, watching his brothers take off in front of him. Then, with a soft sigh, he followed suit.

_You will be at the fourth._

***0***

"Hope is the worst of evils, for it prolongs the torment of man"

***0***

Raph could hear everything very clearly that night. He could hear his feet as they slapped against the asphalt. He could hear the sound of the cars from just a little way off. He could hear his brothers breathing beside him, heavy and hot. And he could hear his heart beat. _Ka-doom. Ka-doom._ Worse of all, he could swear that somewhere, in the distance, he could hear a clock ticking. And Raph _knew_ that it was just his imagination, but even so the sound was really beginning to grate on his nerves.

They were nearing the church and Raph could see it now. The clock on the main cathedral pillar. So Bishop had a sense of humor. He clenched his fists. _Figured._

Don was slowing down, and he kept glancing at his watch.

They stopped.

_Don_ glanced at his watch.

Leo started to look around.

Don _glanced_ at his _watch_.

Raph made to speak but was distracted because of Don.

Who glanced at his watch _again_.

"Fuck! Don stop looking at that Goddamn _clock_ of yours!"

Don looked up, startled. He was pale faced, all ashen and grey, "What?"

"Forget it." Raph growled, "How long?"

Don looked at the watch again, and Raph had to bite his lip to keep himself quiet

"Five."

"Five minutes_… God_…" Raph dropped his head into his hand.

"Leo…." He muttered through his thick palm, "Leo, what's the next clue."

Leo was still scrounging around, bent over in the dirt at the Church sign.

"I think it could be this."

Raph had to squint in the dark to read the words plastered on the bulletin: _The person who makes me has no need for me. The person who buys me doesn't use me. The person who is using me doesn't know. We will all fall at the supper of fowls._

"What the hell is that suppose to mean?" Raph snarled at the words, "Don, get over here."

Leo was looking frazzled. He twitched, electric as Don approached. _He doesn't have the answers_. Raph mused. _He doesn't have the answers and it's killing him. It's killing me too_.

"What are we dealing with here…" Don mused aloud, "What is this whole thing about.?" His eyes narrowed at he studied the words.

"I'll tell you what we dealing with. A _coffin_. A coffin and our brother's in it!"

Don seemed to ponder this, his eyes widening, "A coffin…"

"Yeah we _know_! We Don't need a reminder-"

"No! The one who makes coffins doesn't need them, the person who buys it is not in it so they Don't use it, and the person who uses it… they Don't know…" He corrected himself, "They Don't _usually_ know they're in the coffin because.."

"They're dead." Leo finished, staring into space, "So what about the supper of fowls."

'I think that's biblical. The supper of fowls was the supper of the lord. Where everyone ate the flesh of captains and rich men and horses. And everyone else there was killed and the birds, the fowls, ate them until they were full."

He glanced at his brothers' expressions, "_Revelations_…."

"Yeah _real_ nice Don." Raph's nose wrinkled in disgust, "Now what's that got to do with anything?"

Don shrugged.

"Who was all at this supper?"

"I think it was the people who didn't attend the first supper. They didn't get it at the start, so they went full circle in the cycle and then..."

"Then there were eaten for their efforts" Leo finished.

"So we got a coffin and a supper."

"Wait." Don frowned, "That's _it._ That was the last clue. The last supper was the _supper of fowls_."

Leo looked concerned, "What does that mean?"

"_You will be at the fourth_." Don's eyes were wide, bloodshot.

'What is it?" Raph grabbed his shoulders, "We aint got time!"

"That's the _problem_!" Don spat suddenly, pulling himself out of Raph's' grip, "We didn't take _time_!"

"_Don_…" Leo was speaking softly, as if to an invalid and it made Don sick.

"No! I _told_ you the last part was important! We need to go _back_!" He shook his head, "_Stupid_! We need to go back to where everything started."

"Where we met with Bishop?"

"Exactly!"

"Why… Don I Don't get it"

"Of _course_ you Don't." Don was shaking now, knuckles white, "That's where Mikey is. _Supper of fowls_, being _stupid_ and knowing best, being too bloody _pridefu_l! Ring a _bell!"_

He took a deep, calming breath.

"Look. We have to get there _now_. That's where Mikey is. We made a mistake and now we have to_ fix_ it."

Raph was still. Too still, and too dark. Like an obsidian statue, and Leo was worried that he was going to crack.

And he did, his voice cracking in the night, "_What_?"

"We were _wrong_! We need to go back to where it started."

"Mikey is gonna _die_ because we make a _mistake_?" He was too calm. Much too calm.

"Raph!" Leo shouted, "We're leaving."

"No…" He heard Raph's low, deep chuckle, "No. What if we're _wrong_ again?"

"Then Mikey dies!" Leo shouted, suddenly furious with everything, "But if we stand here and do nothing, then it's guaranteed!"

He spun on his heel, turning in the direction of fifth and sixth.

"_Don_!"

His passive brother stood, looking into the night, eyes wide. Leo couldn't quite place his expression. It was like all the life had been sucked out of the world and all the intelligence, the _spark_, had be sucked out of Don's mind. His _soul_. He hated seeing his brother like that and rage, hot and thick, _molten_, bubbled at the sight.

"Don!"

"So I have to choose now?'" His voice was too soft.

"We're wasting _time_. Mikey is going to _die_! Don't you guys _get that_!"

"Of _course_ I do!" Raph is looking at him again, and Leo felt as if he could see the cracks running down his body, "I _know_!"

He snarled, teeth showing white in the darkness, "I'm coming with you."

Don spends another moment standing there with a strange blankness on his face before he nods too, "I'm coming."

"Good, because we only have four more minutes. Let's _go_."

***0***

"_How long do you think they're going to take?"_

I swallow thickly, gasping for air. The taste of my tears, hot and salty, floods my mouth and I gag.

"_They got it wrong you know."_

"_Shut up…_" It's hard and raspy and it sound alien to me. Not like I should sound.

"_You Don't have very long left."_

"_They'll come…"_I whisper, and even though the heat is clawing at my throat, I have to believe.

'_Hope…"_He mutters as if reading my mind_. "Hope…"_

The static fades and Bishop's razor-honey voice is gone.

And _again_. I'm _alone_. And somehow, it's really_, really _cold_._

***0***

There are worse things you can do to the people you love than kill them. No matter how much you think you love somebody, you'll step back when the pool of their blood edges up too close – **Chuck Palahniuk**

***0***

_He's going to die._ The thought pounded in Raph's head as he ran. _He's going to die. It's my fault._ Step. _He's going to die_. Step. _It's my fault_. Step. _He's going to die_. Step. _It's my fault._

Raph couldn't breathe. He could hear a bell somewhere. Tolling. He hadn't actually looked at the time, only their set countdown. How late was it? What hour would be Mikey's last? Raph shook his head, _no_. No, they would get there in time. They would. _He_ would. He failed once. Never again._ Never again_.

_Dong._

He could see the building. It was just like he'd remembered it. Three stories, old, brick faced and newly set up for demolition. Was that where Mike had been buried? Raph felt a shudder force its way through him, cold and heavy.

"_Don_! How long?"

_Dong._

He turned at Leo's voice. They were behind him. His brothers. But not by much.

"_Three minutes_!

_Dong._

Three. Just three left. Raph shuddered again, pushing his muscles. He could feel his legs burning, straining until they were numb. Numb was good. Numb meant he could keep going even when his body had given up. Numb meant he could make it in time.

_Dong._

"Move!" He could hear Leo's voice cracking, straining as he gasped for breath. He thought he could smell salt on the wind. But that might have just been his imagination.

_Dong._

"_Almost there_! Keep it up!"

Raph wants to turn around and hit his brother. Hurt him. He's mocking him. Mocking what they're going though. Raph takes a breath. _No. No he's not_. He shudders. Just keep running. _Get to Mikey. Get him in time_.

_Dong._

The asphalt has started to rub his souls raw. His skin becoming broken and painful. Raph hopes the numbness will set in there soon. He can feel each and every stone, small and sharp and ever spec of dust as they cling to his feet and make him stumble. But he presses on. He won't stop. Three minutes. _Three_.

_Dong._

They were almost there. Raph slammed straight into the doors, grabbing the handle and wrenching it open. He barreled through. His shoulder ached and screamed in protest but he couldn't be bothered, "_Don! Leo! Hurry up_!" He could hear the edge to his voice. Angry and cracking. _Desperate._ He could hear the desperation. It made him sick. It made him so, so very _sick_.

_Dong._

"_Bishop_!" He bellowed, "Bishop you fucking _coward!_ Where the hell _are_ you!"

"Raph!" He could feel Leo's hand on his shoulder for the hundredth time that night.

"No! We need to find him _now_!" He knew he'd lost his control. He knew and he just didn't care, "He's going to _die_ Leo! _Mikey_…" He spun out of his brother's grip, "Bishop!"

"Raph!" Leo pulled him to face him. His brother was pale, white and shaking, "I _know_! I know! We _all_ do!" He shuddered, deep and heavy from the very center of his being, "We need to be calm. _Or he'll die_."

_Dong._

Raph is shaking now, trembling right from his core but he nods, tight lipped, not trusting his voice.

_Dong._

"Okay…" Don is looking around the room, "A _clue_…" His mutterers, "He left them before. There has to be one now. _A clue_…"

Raph looks at Leo and his brother nods his head. They start to over turn the chairs in the store room. Looking everywhere. For something. Anything that will help them to find their brother.

_Dong._

"I have it!" Don was kneeling on the grounds, wooden floorboards. Something was carved into the paneling. Don read it allowed, "_One fine day in the middle of the night, two dead boys got up to fight. Back to back they faced each other, Drew their swords and shot each other. If you Don't believe the story's true, ask the dead boy behind you._"

_Dong._

Leo lets out a shiver beside him.

_Dong._

"That's from a movie.." Don murmured, "But what does it mean?"

"Maybe it's simple…" Raph was on his feet.

"What do you mean?"

_Dong._

Raph tuned around, pointing to the ground, "Maybe this is it."

"What?"

"Maybe Mikey's here!" Raph points to the floorboards."

Leo looks unsure, "Don?"

Don is shaking his head, 'I Don't know."

"How much time do we got?" Raph snaps.

"Two minutes." Don mumbled, head bowed

"Then we Don't got no choice!"

"And what if we're wrong Raph? Then what?" Leo is shaking and his breathing his heavy and thick, 'Then what?" His voice cracks.

"Then we've lost." Don murmurs, 'Lost the game. Lost our brother."

Raph shivers, "Last chance."

Leo nods, "I'm with you."

Don kneels on the floor, "Let's do it."

_Dong._

_One fine day in the middle of the night, two dead boys got up to fight. Back to back they faced each other, Drew their swords and shot each other. If you Don't believe the story's true, ask the dead boy behind you…_

"_They're here.."_

"_What…?"_I croak out. The air is heavy and thick and I can barely think straight, I feel sick. I feel like I'm dying. I realize that I am.

"_They have it wrong you know… the clue…"_

I shake my head_, 'No…. they, they'll…"_

"_Fined you? Save you?"_ I hear his laugh, slick and oily,_" Yes. Cling to hope. Cling to your brothers."_

"_You're wrong…"_

"_No… they are…"_

_One fine day in the middle of the night, two dead boys got up to fight. Back to back they faced each other, Drew their swords and shot each other. If you Don't believe the story's true, ask the dead boy behind you…_

_

* * *

_

**What did you think?**


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